Last time I went to LA I loved it... but the time before that I felt completely home-sick and wanted to stay in NY forever.
This visit... well I doubt you'll find me moving to LA without a few kicks and screams and a pout thrown in for good measure.
WHAT A LOONEY BIN
I mean, I knew that going on a trip with Miss Marcy Girt would be a little crazy, because times spent together usually provide us with countless hours of stories. But this was something else all together.
Our story starts on Wednesday night in NY when we joined one of our friends, who moved to Virginia a while ago, for dinner. The three of us used to be joined at the hip, partners in crime, the three amigos, so a reunion dinner was going to be great. And it delivered, great food, great company. Marcy and I thought this might be the way the rest of our weekend would go. With the flow. Bro.
I stayed over at her house on Wednesday and we didn't finally end up going to bed until 1 am. At the advice of Marcy's roommate, we got up at 5 to get a car to JFK so we wouldn't miss our flight. It ended up that our car only took 15 minutes to get us from Queens to JFK so we had a lot of waiting around time. People started arriving from the film and we all got checked in and boarded the plane.
We flew Song air which is the JetBlue version of Delta airlines. I guess they try to be "cute" or "different" so each time you board a plane instead of a movie or an actual flight attendant saying "this is how you buckle your seatbelt" or "in case of an emergency..." they have a voice over come on over the loud speaker. This voice over was RIDICulous. A woman with a really bad Irish accent came on with Irish step dance music in the background to tell us to "take the potatoes out of our ears" and to keep our "wee tiddlers" in line while on the plane. (I know what it sounds like but I think it means "kids.") It was just terrible. Had that been my first flight I would have had no idea how to buckle my seat belt or what to do in an emergency because I was laughing so hard at this poor woman trying to sound Irish. Toward the end of her voice over she completel lost her accent and said "thanks for flying Song air" in her North Dakota/Middle America accent.
So the flight takes off. Everything is great. They have these tv screens at each seat with games, mp3s, tv, movies. It's pretty awesome. The flight attendants however where NOT so awesome. One attendant in particular was so bitchy poor Marcy didn't ask for a blanket for fear it would be thrown at her like it was the last woman who asked. She rolled her eyes while handing out water and grumbled when someone pushed their attendant light to get help with their tv. What a joy. Really. As the flight landed we learned the reason for her disdain when she got on the loud speaker and said, "I'd like to wish MYSELF a happy birthday" in her best "my super sweet spoiled brat sixteen" voice. What a pure delight!
You want a blanket?
Upon arriving in LA we get our rental car and, because I'm prepared beyond belief, start to follow the mapquest directions to get to our hotel. Wow, mapquest sucks. Not only did it give us the wrong directions, but they were SO much longer than they needed to be. We basically just had to get on La Cienega and take it all the way North until 3rd street. Instead we got on H Hughes parkway, Interstate 10, all this crazy shit and THEN ENDED UP EXACTLY WHERE WE STARTED! I could have spit. And I would have had we not had two people from the movie in the car with us.
We finally find our hotel and settle in at 2:00. MAPQUEST YOU WILL PAY.
The party was later that night so we had just a few hours to rest and get glamorous. I knew I'd be rooming with one of the actors from the other movie so I was interested to see who she'd be. When she arrived, well she was just the sweetest thang from Nashville you ever did see. Miss Nyla. What a doll. Marcy and I were immediately in love. She was around 50 and went about telling us pretty much every terrible thing that had happened to her in her 50 years. All in a chipper, Tennessee drawl.
"Oh y'all, when my husband died three years ago..."
"Y'all, my friend was gonna come with me but she had a mini-stroke."
"Y'all, I was in a plane crash. I was datin' this dentist and he had his own plane and we were flyin' but there was bad fuel in the plane and the plane caught on fire and my panty hose melted to ma leg. So ah hate flyin'."
I mean it was just one thing after another. What a woman for going through all that stuff and still having the sunny disposition she had. Nyla, we'll never forget ya.
So the premiere party was just hilarious and a blast. Got to take a stretch hummer limo to the red carpet. On our way there we passed by the permiere of Reece Witherspoon's new movie "Just Like Heaven." I stopped and said "hi" to her and told her next time to check with me before scheduling her premiere the same night as mine. But whatevsies.
There was a photographer at the party and he was snapping away all night so I'm sure there'll be some hilarious pictures to be seen. I took a few too and will post those another time.
The most bizarre part of the evening was when Marcy and I first arrived and we were sitting by ourselves over on a couch (at Ivar, where the event was held) and a girl comes over to us. She has that vapid "LA" look in her eyes but seems friendly enough. She asks us our names, what we do, why we're here (actually, why are YOU here, crazy?) and then Marcy asks her what she does for a living. She says, "I'm a writer" and Marcy asks "what do you write? books? screenplays?" and our friend says "I write about Life." She then tells us she wants to be an interviewer and keeps asking us questions. It was quite a weird experience. She later gives us her card... it says her name and underneath says "Media." Ooooh. You're in media. OK.
I. Am. In. Media. Meep. Mop. Moop.
The party ended and because of jet lag and lack of sleep the night before, Marcy and I are in bed by 11:00.
The next day we decide to drive around LA and possibly get a hair cut and do some shopping. I got the most awesome hair cut/color from Jena at the salon in the Beverly Center. GO TO HER if you are in LA. AMAZING.
LA turned Marcy into a lover of "7" jeans. She almost bought a pair for $135. I mean, they did make her look amazing but even that couldn't pursuade her to spend that much. Maybe she'll get them on eBay... or maybe for CHRISTMAS! Ooooh.
That night we went to a small Karaoke joint with our friends Dori and Alissa. It was a little divey bar in some bad part of LA that I couldn't find again if you made me. We pretty much had control over the mic and sang roaring renditions of "Wind Beneath My Wings," "Midnight Train to Georgia" and "Eternal Flame." It was pretty thrilling... for the 10 regulars who don't get many 20-year-old hotties turning up the heat in that place.
Oh and while arriving and leaving Marcy had 3 black cats cross her path.
The next day we got a ticket for $30 from a meter man who could have very well been the next coming of Satan or a serial killer, for parking at a meter and having our bumper about 10 inches into the red curb in front of us. I've never been met with such lack of care or understanding in my life. And I've dealt with a lot of assholes. I couldn't believe this guy's attitude. I really think he got pleasure from seeing me upset. I sped off and started crying. I don't know what came over me... lack of sleep, asshole writing me a ticket, who knows. We drove back and took pictures of the scene of the crime. We're gonna contest that mother effer. I later found out that meter maids/men work on commission. Wow, great idea Arnold. You idiot.
Meeep. Here. Is. Your. Ticket. Bitch. Blip.
The next day we were scheduled to leave. We'd stayed at my friend Claire's house to save $ on a hotel so we got up that morning, took her to Griddle's for breakfast (SO GOOD!) and left for the airport. All we had to do was take La Cienega all the way South and we'd be there. But no. There had to be a bike tour down Venice which blocked off La Cienega past Venice and caused us to go all the way down Venice to get on I-405. We accidentally missed the exit for 405 and went all the way to Venice Beach. We knew for sure we were going to miss our flight!! It was 10:30 and our flight left at 11:38. We finally got back on the interstate, returned the car, got on the bus to the airport and started to try and check in. That's when an angel arrived and helped me out. Some man came out of nowhere, helped me check my bag in, helped me get my boarding pass and get to the gate on time. Whoever you are sir you are awesome. Well, there was ONE normal person in LA at least.
I know it sounds like a shitty trip but actually it was one of the best I've ever had. Marcy is a divine travelling companion.
I sincerely hope all my NY frinds live in LA with me if I ever have to move there.
That place is WEIRD.